Midam Christmas Calendar
by Syvamiete
Summary: This is a collection of ficlets from my Midam Christmas Calendar in my writing blog 'Vision and Fury' in Tumblr. There will be 24 fics, one for each day preceding Christmas.
1. Healing

December 1st_  
_

**Genre:** Hurt/Comfort

**Rating:** K+

* * *

None of them expects what they find when they arrive at the old churchyard after a massive disturbance in the angel radio. The place is havoc: all the trees in 30 meter radius have crashed down in a perfect circle and black scorch marks adores the stones.

And in the middle of it all, among the head stones, sits Adam leaning against a charred rock and a couple of meters away from him stands the archangel.

* * *

"He's fine," Cas says quietly, although Adam can still hear them, he just pretends to be more interested in the furniture of the kitchen.

"There are scars in his soul, but someone has already partially healed them. That's why he's in a better condition than Sam was." The angel glances at the door. On the other side of the bunker, Gabriel is having his own conversation with his brother.

"Great," Dean mutters. "But that doesn't change anything. He has to leave."

"No."

They both turn to look at Adam, who has suddenly stood up from his chair at the counter. He looks challenging at them. "He stays."

"Sorry, Adam, but that fucker is not gonna stay under this roof as long as I have any say to it."

Adam's expression doesn't budge.

"For my part he can crawl back into the hole he came from."

Adam keeps his eyes stead at Dean. "He stays."

Dean is the first one to look away.

* * *

Hell changes people. Dean has already learned that the hard way, but it still doesn't make it any easier to see the haunted look that stays behind his brother's eyes.

Whatever Castiel might have said about the scars being already healing, they are still there and visible. At the morning, Adam appears into the kitchen wrapped in one of Sam's old thick hoodies but still looking like he's feeling cold. And on his heels comes Michael.

Neither of them seemed to care nor notice the awkward atmosphere that enters the room with them. Kevin tries to give Adam a tentative smile but the boy doesn't seem to even notice it, concentrating to pick his toast.

Sam glances at the archangel, who leans to the counter behind Adam, and gives Gabriel a look, but the other angel pretends that he doesn't see it. He has been abnormally quiet this morning, refusing to tell what he and Michael had talked last night.

As the day goes on, it doesn't come any better. Adam doesn't speak unless spoken to and he flinches for any sudden noises. He just wanders around the bunker the angel always a few meters behind, attached to him like a second shadow.

* * *

It's the second night when another shoe finally drops.

The walls of the bunker are thick, but they only muffle the scream that shakes Dean awake. He blinks against the light when he steps into the hallway and pushes Michael aside from Adam's door. He crouches next his brother's bed and shakes him a little. "Adam, wake up."

"What's happening?" Sam, Cas and Gabriel have also arrived and look confused from Dean to Michael, who looms at the doorway.

"He's having a nightmare."

Cas steps into the gloomy room. "Maybe I can help." He sits on the other side of the bed and lays his hand on Adam's forehead. There's a moment of silence, but then Adam screams again, his eyes springs open and Dean has to hold him down so that he doesn't fall out of the bed attempting to get away from Castiel's touch.

"What the hell was that?" Sam asks from behind them when Adam's breathing has calmed down a bit but he hasn't stop shivering.

"There's a possibility," Gabriel starts and he already sounds sorry, "that in the Cage his soul learned to react to an angel's Grace in a certain way. Apparently it doesn't matter whose it is."

Dean has to take a breath before turning around. Even dazed-looking Kevin has joined the crowd at the door, but Michael has conveniently disappeared.

* * *

It is close to midnight, the wind howls outside, and the rain beats metal. Everyone has already gone to bed, but Dean is still up doing research about healing scars of a soul. It has been over a week and Adam still has nightmares every two or three nights. Sam had suggested that one of them should sleep in his room, but Adam had rejected it immediately announcing that he would bar the door if they would even so much as try it. And since the angels' help is out of the question, all they can do is to try to wake him up from his nightmares. After the first nightmare, he hasn't luckily seen Michael hovering around Adam's room.

He has his papers and folders spread on his bed when suddenly the lights flicker off. Dean raises his eyes to the dark ceiling. Something has cut the power. He fumbles through a few drawers for an old flashlight.

In its orange beam, he peeks into the black hallway. Apparently, the whole bunker was dark. Probably a lightning had burned the fume. Where the hell in this place even has a switchboard?

He walks along the hallway, but stops suddenly noticing that one of the unused bedrooms' doors is ajar. Cautiously he pushes it completely open pointing the beam inside. The room is empty, but someone has taken the duvet and the pillows from the bed. He pulls back into the hallway to check the rest of the doors. They are closed.

He's standing at Adam's door. The boy hasn't sounded to have nightmares yet tonight, but he decides to make sure of it. He slowly opens the door: the room is quiet, apart from even breathing. But then the light reaches the bed and he knows where the blanket and the pillows have gone.

There, nested among them, sleeps his brother clutching like a lifeline to the archangel, who in turn has wrapped his arms possessively around him. He seems to be in a deep sleep. Dean stands there for a moment resisting an urge to drag the angel off his brother and kick him out into the storm, but eventually he sighs frustratedly and turns around closing the door softly behind him. Everyone has their own ways of healing their scars, and if this is what works for Adam, then so be it.


	2. Cold

December 2nd

**Genre:** Hurt/Comfort

**Rating:** K+

**AN:** This was inspired by theangelandhisboykings prompt in Tumblr: _cold+warm_.

* * *

Something shakes Adam awake. He blinks into the darkness trying to collect his thoughts. Slowly, his eyes start to adjust to the gloom of the empty room.

He pulls the blanket tighter around himself as he swings his legs over the edge of the bed. The heat isn't still working properly. The bare floor is chilly under his feet as he walks through the dark house, blanket rustling behind him.

Finally, he finds him from the scarcely furnished living room. The big glass windows give enough light that he can easily see Michael leaning to the wall next to them, staring outside.

He's a stubborn ass. Adam knows wholly well how he pretends to be stronger than he actually is and that his wings hurt constantly. He has never bought his act that it doesn't really mattered that he's trapped down here, unable to return home, pretending that the scars in his Grace don't exist.

Adam walks next to him to see what he's looking at. Big snowflakes drift slowly to the ground forming a white sheet, which amplifies the scant light. Michael doesn't react when Adam wraps his arms around him.

They stand there in silence for a while, looking at the fall of the fresh snow, until Michael finally speaks with a soft voice: "I'm cold."

He doesn't need to say more for Adam to know where his mind is, to know what memories he's thinking.

"We got out," Adam says tightened his hold and resting his head on his shoulder while twining his warmer fingers with Michael's cooler ones.


	3. Party

December 3rd

**Genre:** Romance, College AU

**Rating:** M

**Warning:** contains drunken making out.

* * *

The music drifts through the air from the speakers someone has hauled to the beach. Adam's friends from the college, who dragged him here in the first place, have already disappeared into the crowd after getting him appropriately drunk.

He throws his back bag to the ground and digs for another beer. Even though it's already mid-September and the sun is setting, it's still warm, so it doesn't actually matter where his shirt has gotten. He weaves among the people who are all in different levels of drunkenness. The drinking competition with those biologists maybe wasn't such a good idea after all; he is starting to feel a bit woozy. Sitting down might be a good idea.

He finds his way to the low wall that separates the beach from the surrounding woods. And sitting on it is one of the attractive men that have ever crossed his path. He's tall, has dark hair and as far as Adam can judge through his clothes, quite fit. He whirls his bottle absentmindedly leaning his elbows to his knees watching the crowd.

Adam collects his courage and strides at the wall dropping his bag by it and slumps next to the man. He lets his gaze run up and down his dark stranger. "Oh my, you are even prettier up close."

The man turns to look at him cocking an eyebrow. The decreasing light makes his eyes look deep emerald green. Adam tries to collect his thoughts. "Well that came out wrong. I meant that you are… you are…" he search for a word. "You are beautiful." Yeah, that's better.

The man smiles a little turning his eyes back at the crowd. "You are the first to say that."

"Really?" Adam's eyes widen. "Are they blind?" The man just chuckles quietly. "Well, what do they call you then?"

"They call me Michael, all though my brothers have few unorthodox nicknames for me."

"Adam Milligan at your service," Adam pecks his knuckles looking him through his lashes although his wide grin spoils the effect.

Michael chuckles "Are you flirting with me?"

"Yes." The seriousness of the answer takes Michael aback. He wasn't sure what the appropriate way to answer was. Usually it's someone of his siblings, like Gabriel or Luci, who gets all the attention.

The blond, Adam, interprets his silence the other way. "I know, I'm not very good at this, but I blame a bad teacher. At least I see the trouble of making my own pick-up lines. You should meet my brother. I have heard him use some of the lines which should never be uttered aloud."

Michael watches the other closer. He's definitely not bad looking, there's no doubt of that, especially when he's without his shirt. There's a tingle of humor in his eyes as he speaks, which can't completely be because of alcohol, and his hair sticks up adorably when he runs his hand through it.

"Maybe I should then reward you from your efforts," Michael blurts out and before he can regret it, he cups Adam's face and pulls him into a kiss.

It would be a lie, if Adam wouldn't say being surprised by the sudden taking of lead, but he's not going to complain. When his kissing partner starts to pull back, he in turn scoots closer, closing the small distance between them.

"Reward accepted," he whispers breathlessly when they finally separate. He rests his head against Michael's hand as he brushes his cheek with his thumb. Adam leans to kiss him again and wraps his arms around his waist humming appreciatively feeling the lean muscles under the shirt. Definitely not a disappointment there.

But the wall is too narrow for this type of activity, so they ended up fumbling trying not to fall off. "Fuck this," Adam finally mutters, and before Michael can argue about him standing up, he situates himself on his lap, his legs hanging on the other side of the wall.

Michael's hands feel hot on Adam's shoulder blades as he supports him from falling and pulls him into another kiss.

Adam traces the features of the other man's face with his fingers. "Definitely the most beautiful person I've ever met," he whispers as his fingers brush over the cheekbones.

The hands have wandered down from his shoulder blades to his hips and Adam can't resist moving closer luring a strangled groan from Michael. His victorious smirk however is quickly wiped away when the lips start their exploration along his throat.

The darkness starts to descent when they continue the touches and kisses drawing only inches apart to catch their breath before diving back in. Adam hands have finally found their way under the shirt in their expeditions and are now tracking the arches of ribs and sternum.

Something vibrates against his tight and a standard ring tone starts to play. Michael pulls back groaning frustradedly and fishes the phone out of his trouser pocket, but the call has already ended. Adam watches as his browns knit together when he reads the caller ID and soon the phone clings for a new message. After reading it, Michael drags a hand down his face looking exhausted.

"What is it?"

"I have to go." Adam gets off him when Michael sifts to stand up. "My siblings are making havoc at home."

They stand there in an awkward silence not knowing what they should do. Adam's the first to break the silence. "Wouldn't they be OK for just a while longer?" God, he sounds desperate.

Michael shakes his head looking disappointed. "Last time the almost managed to burn down the whole house."

"Alright then…" Adam clears his throat eyes on the ground. "You should go then."

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" Michael asks. "It's cooling down."

Adam feels a sudden surge of self-awareness and wraps his arms around himself. "Yeah, I have a jacket in my bag." He beckons at the back bag by the wall.

"Alright then," Michael closes the few foot between them and pulls him into a last kiss. This time it's not heated like the ones on the wall, but softer and more peaceful. Something drops in Adam's guts when the fingers brush the nape of his neck.

"See you," Michael says giving him a final smile before turning and leave.

"Yeah, see you," Adam doesn't get his voice back until his tall dark stranger has already disappeared into the crowd.


	4. Real

December 4th

**Genre:** Angst

**Rating:** M

**AN:** This story is an adaptation from a piece of my midam RP with lovely michiferangst in Tumblr.

* * *

"Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean it is not real?"

- Albus Dumbledore, _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_

* * *

His limbs are heavy from fatigue as Adam finally stops to catch his breath. The ever-present coldness seeps through the denim of his jeans and makes his fingers go numb. He glances around, but the shadows veil everything. He has learned not to trust this eerie silence.

Something warm brushes his back. "Don't worry," Michael says from his side. "I'm here for you. I'll keep you safe."

Adam hugs him tight and buries his face into Michael's chest. "I love you," he whispers quietly.

"I love you too, kiddo," Michael wraps his arms around him, holding him close.

Adam breaths his scent starting to relax into the warmth when he hears something rustle behind them.

"What is it, baby?" Michael asks caressing his hair.

_It'll go away, it'll go away, it'll go away…_ he chants inwardly shutting his eyes tight. The noises creep closer and something cold brushes against his neck. His hold on Michael's jacket tightens.

Michael wraps his warm and soft wings around him. "Leave my boy alone," he growls at the creature.

"Your boy?" the thing asks and Adam's insides go cold. The voice is so familiar, but the tone is completely off. "If anyone has ownership for him, it's me."

"I love him," Michael counters.

"And I don't?" the creature walks around them.

"Then why is he afraid of you?"

"Oh, it's only because of that one time," the voice is now ghosting near Michael.

"Who are you?"

The voice actually sounds hurt. "I'm appalled that Adam hasn't told his boyfriend about his family."

"You're his mother?"

_No, she's not_, Adam thinks but his voice has died into his throat.

"Yes, darling." The voice is now purring right next to them.

"What happened to make him so afraid?"

"Oh, there was this one time when we had little fun and he screamed like a pig."

"Fun?" Michael's feathers rustled as he tightened his hold around Adam.

"Oh, yes. Why don't we show your boyfriend how fun we had, darling? This time he can be the one to hold you down."

"Get out of here before I smite you," Michael snarls.

"Make me," she whispers into the angel's ear.

"You're just a twisted vision caused by the Cage."

"Maybe. But do you want to see what I can still do to him?" She crabs Adam and pulls him from Michael's hold.

The angel sends a wave of energy towards her, but it has a little effect. She laughs coldly. "In here we are all the same. And at the moment I am the stronger one."

"I'm an archangel. You're just a ghost."

"Here it's up to Adam, who has the most power," she caresses Adam's cheek making him shudder. "Isn't it so, sweetie?"

"Adam," Michael says and he can hear a whiz of blade been drawn out. "Try to concentrate. You can take away her power."

"Do you believe him?" she whispers to his ear, but Adam only presses his eyes tighter shut. "Do you believe all those things he says? That he'll protect you? That he'll always be there for you? That he loves you?"

"Adam, please, fight," Michael pleads. "She's just a creation of your imagination. Your real mother wouldn't hurt you. I love you, kiddo. You taught me the feeling."

"What do they know about feelings?" she continues caressing Adam's hair. "Do they ever feel fear when they wake up into a sudden noise in an empty house? Do they ever feel jealousy about other people's families? Do they ever feel the rejection and unworthiness when someone they love leaves them for someone else?"

"Yes, we do. Believe me, being an angel is not as good as people think. It isn't just powers. I have lost many siblings. Our Father left us and all we had was a plan we didn't even understand but we had to follow, because we were created to obey."

"How long do you think it'll take for him to realize? To see all the stains? All the jealousy and hatred, pride and lies, the carnal needs and lust?" Adam can't hold back the tears.

"I'm not some predator! I could never hurt him, or do anything he doesn't want."

"How long do you think until he leaves you?"

"I won't!"

"Empty promises."

"Stop," Adam manages a choked plea.

"Adam… baby, I love you." Michael starts to sound desperate.

The tears run down his face and his knees feel weak when he tries to pull away from her hold. He just wants it all to end.

"If you don't want me, maybe I play a little with our lover boy over there," she whispers to him.

"No," a terror seeps into him

"Just leave Adam alone."

"Why don't we make a deal? I get you and I'll leave him alone."

"NO!" Adam opens his eyes and immediately regrets it. The ghoul looks just like at that night. Her hair is a mess and she has blood on the hospital clothes and the face she has stolen from his mom. The smile she gives at him is openly predatory.

"He has suffered enough," Michael says drawing her attention back to him.

"You give yourself to me and he doesn't have to suffer anymore," she walks closer to Michael.

"You want to torture me? Fine," the angel answers without a hesitation.

"Michael, don't!"

"Torture you?" she takes the angel blade from his hand. "Maybe not. I'm more interested if you are as juicy as he was." Before either of them can react, she slams the knife to Michael's chest up to the hilt.

The angel gasps. "Adam, wake up! You have to wake up!" he chokes.

"Michael!" Adam screams as she twists the blade making him to fall on his knees. Adam sprints at them and as he slides to his knees next to Michael, she fades away and the knife clangs to the ground.

"Michael, please," he pleads tearfully pulling the angel into his lap and pressing his hand on the wound.

Michael looks up at him, clearly in agony. "Wake up… It's not real…"

Nausea washes over Adam as the warm blood trickles through his fingers. He tightens his hold on him. "I… I can't. I don't know how."

"You have to…" his voice is barely a whisper.

"I can't," his voice shakes and his vision blurs with tears when he kisses Michael's forehead. When his eyes clear again, he's looking at the dark ceiling of his bedroom.

"Adam! Wake up!" he hears Michael call him worriedly and warm hands cup his face drawing his attention to the angel wavering over him. He doesn't care that the world spins when he sits up too quickly to wrap his arms around Michael's torso for a crushing hug.

"Shh, it's okay, baby, it was just a dream. You aren't there any more. You are safe now," Michael says softly rubbing his back.

New tears wet his already damp cheeks, his hands shake and he can still feel the warm blood on them, but none of that matters. His angel's here, safe and unwounded. "Don't ever leave," he whispers brokenly clutching to Michael's shirt.

"I love you," Michael says kissing his hair. "I'll always be here to keep you safe."


	5. The Beautiful One

December 5th

**Genre:** Romance, College AU

**Rating:** T

**AN:** This is continuation for my previous fic, _Party_.

* * *

Adam drops his head on his anatomy book groaning frustratedly. God, he hates Latin.

"Will you be having a dinner or are you too fascinated by the skeletal structures of human appendages to eat?" Dean asks peeking into the living room. Adam flips him off without raising his head from the book. He hears Dean chuckle as he goes back to the kitchen.

Maybe he could study just the hand part tonight, but then he would have to wake up before six to study the foot section. Why hadn't anyone shoot him to the leg when he had decided that studying medicine was a good idea?

The doorbell rings and Dean goes to open it. Adam sighs against his textbook. And he has the test about the physiology of an eye on Friday. And he still suffers from a sleep deprivation for the last weekend. Adam buries himself deeper into the couch. Maybe he should just crawl into bed and not come out before Christmas.

"It's for you," Dean has come back to the living room and pushes his legs off the couch.

"Who is it?" Adam mumbles to the paper.

"I dunno. He introduced himself as Michael Milton, but said you might remember him better as 'the beautiful one'. Do you have something to tell me?"

Adam tensed. Oh fuck. He scrambles up and dashes into hallway. But before he comes at the doorway, he halts at the full body mirror. His reflection looks like crap. He's wearing the family's ancestral shirt which have been in the hands of God knows how many generations and looks just like you would think it would. There are bags under his eyes and his hairs dirty and‒ the hell with it.

He plasters a tense smile on his face and steps into the doorway. "Hi."

Michael looks amazing. He has a white dress shirt and jeans and a few top buttons are open revealing a bit of that chest Adam hands‒ and eyes goes up, not wandering into that territory now. Michael raises his eyes from the ugly yellow linoleum of the stairs and he stops picking his right sleeve. "Hi. Nice to see you got home alright."

"How did you find me?" Adam blurts before he can think.

"Well, there aren't many Milligans in the student register."

Adam frowns. When did he give his name… Dear Lord, why on Earth did he have to kiss his _hand_? Heat creeps on his face. "Listen, sorry about that on Sunday. I don't normally crawl into strangers laps"

"It's okay. I don't normally let strangers to crawl into my lap."

They sink into an awkward silence. Eventually Michael clears his throat. "So," he says, finally looking Adam in the eyes, and yes, they are exactly as deep green as on the beach and… Adam shakes himself back to reality. "Sorry. Could you repeat?"

Michael's eyes wander to the walls and his hand comes back to pick the sleeve. "I… I was just thinking that maybe we could do this properly and if you want we… we could meet at somewhere and…"

Adam blinks surprised. Was this a date offer? "Yes." Michael draws his eyes back at him. "I would like that."

The shy smile that lights up on Michael's face makes Adam's mouth go dry and he really has to concentrate to what the other says next.

"Unfortunately the only possible free time I have before weekend is tomorrow just before my morning classes, so‒"

"That's just fine. I have a morning class too."

"Really?" the smile grows. "Could we then meet at the cafeteria at seven?"

"Yeah. No problem."

"Great. See you then."

"Yeah. See you." Adam knows he's grinning like a loony as he watches Michael goes down the stairs. He turns to shut the door and faces Dean's intense glare.

"So, who was it?" his brother asks as Adam pushes past him into his room. "What did he want?"

"You know what? It's none of your business." He shuts the door at his brother's face.


	6. Giving

December 6th

**Genre:** Angst

**Rating:** T

**Warning:** cancer and mentioning a suicide

When Metatron cast down the angels, he freed the prisoned ones. All of them.

* * *

"If you would just let me be yo‒"

_No. We talked about this. I'm not going to use you again. And I'm not going to use your soul either. It's still raw from Hell and even though it wasn't, I still wouldn't do it._

Adam sighs resigned. He has start to see why Dean is Michael's true vessel. They are both more stubborn than is healthy.

He slides the back door open and steps inside. The house is dark and a mess. Medical equipment and drugs are spread on every possible surface. Adam shudders. It's unethical to leave a terminal cancer patient without a full-time care of a nurse, has he the money to pay about it or not.

He walks up the creaking stairs and softly pushes the bedroom door open. The room is quiet, apart from the pained breathing of a man in the bed. He's Jonathan Miller, his second cousin from his father's side and used to be an accountant in a local company. Three years ago doctor's diagnosed him with a stage 2 bone cancer. Now they have given him less than two months to live. All he can do is stay at home, trapped into an IV.

Adam walks to his bedside and crouches down to switch on the lamp on the nightstand. The other man is skinny and deadly pale. He lays his hand on Jonathan's shoulder as he wakes up, blinking disorientedly due the pain and the drugs. "It's okay. I'm a friend. I'm here to offer you a choice."

There's a moment of silence when Jonathan tries to comprehend what he has just said. "A choice?" he croaks dryly.

"Yes. I can give you an alternative for this," Adam motions towards the bleak bedroom and the IV-stand at the other side of the bed.

Jonathan's eyes wander from him to the ceiling. "I'm sorry, but I'm a coward. I don't have it in me to kill myself. Not yet."

Adam knows fully well that morally this is far beyond shady. The other man probably thinks this is a dream or a hallucination. But he's out of options. Michael _needs_ a vessel, despite what the angel himself says. He takes a shaky breath. "What if I could give you an option from between death and the pain?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's possible for you to become a vessel for an angel. He would take control of your body, which would give him a physical form on Earth."

"Would I…?" The question is cut off by a pained gasp.

Adam rubs his shoulder comfortingly. "He can make sure you wouldn't be aware any of it."

They are silent for a moment, when Jonathan stares at the shadows of the ceiling. "Yes," he finally says almost inaudibly.

It's all Adam needs. He pulls a small vial in a chain under his shirt. The light it emits is disturbingly dim; it has been weakening ever since they got out of the Cage. He stands up. "Thank you," he says before mashing the vial to the floor.

A white light explodes when the glass shatters on the carpet. It creates dark shadows to the corners of the room when it slithers its way at Jonathan. He gasps loudly as it disappears inside him. A blinding light flashes fading everything away for a moment.

* * *

Michael draws a breath when the pain gets to a whole a new level as he settles into his vessel. His Grace is already in shreds being forced out through the sigils of the Cage, pain is everywhere. His wings are already a lost cause and now his Grace tries to desperately heal his new body. Everything is spinning around him as he tries to concentrate to the warmth on his face. Hands. Someone sounds to be calling him. Adam. He forces his eyes to focus on the boy that seems to waver worriedly over him. He wants to assure him that he'll be OK, comfort him, he shouldn't be so sad because of him, but only manages is a pained groan. Adam sounds to be cursing and pulls away, please don't go, but then the warmth, the hands, are back cupping his face. Adam is saying something, it's not English, it's‒ oh, no no no no no, don't do it, please, don't do it. He tries to pull away, but before he can move, Adam's kissing him.

There's a surge of power between them. It spreads over his Grace, dulling the pain, smoothing the tears. His Grace is buzzing from the feel of power, familiar and foreign at the same time. It's the same warmth he knows from the Cage, the same light he protected there with all he could. He knows its every aspect, every streak, but now it's becoming something much more intimate, it's weaving itself into his Grace and no no no, this is not what he wants, he doesn't deserve it. The warmth is starting to spread into the remnants of his wings; he has to end this now before his Grace consumes all of the light. He breaks the kiss and everything blackens.

* * *

When Michael regains his consciousness again, the lamp on the nightstand is still throwing shadows on the walls and it's still dark outside. Slowly, he gets out of the bed and on the floor where Adam's sitting contently, leaning against the foot of the bed and watching the stars lighting up on the sky.

When he sits next to him, Adam turns to glance at him and gives him a small smile. Something heavy sets inside Michael, because yes, this is Adam, but, something is permanently broken, crippled. Michael buries his head into his hands. "I never wanted your soul."


	7. The Job

December 7th

**Genre:** Suspense

**Rating:** T

* * *

The sky was clearing up, which was good. The rain would have been bad for the visibility. Adam put the final parts together before stepping at the edge of the roof. The wind had not yet caught up, which made the conditions even easier.

He secured the rifle against the low wall and kneeled steadily on the concrete. He glanced at his watch: 15.59. The court would disassemble at any minute. On the other side of the town, the clock tower stroke 4.

Across the street people started to come out from the main doors. Secretaries, journalists and curious citizens were leaving into their cars and taxis or heading to the nearby cafes. And then, he stepped out.

Black hair and a rigid posture, only the color of the expensive suit was different from the picture Adam had in his bag. The man stopped to chat with a few other lawyers. Adam let his body relax and aimed. A slow inhale, one, two, three, controlled pressure on the trigger. He watched as the man slumped to the ground and stopped moving. Finally, he stood up exhaling.

"You seem to be a quite decent shooter," a voice stated from behind his back.

He spun around grabbing the knife he had strapped to his thigh. He aimed for the throat, but the stranger was too close and simply grabbed his forearm ramming him against a nearby vent.

"But close combat definitely isn't your strongest field," the man said.

Adam's head spun from hitting against the metal and for a moment, he could only blink disorientedly looking into the curious green eyes, which were running up and down him, assessing.

"If you reduce the arc of your swing and aim for the torso, you have much higher changes of hitting the target and you may be able to damage some organs. Although I thought Dean would have already taught you these things."

"You know him?" Adam wheezed, the dark man's body still pinning him against the metal tube.

"Oh, we have met a few times, although I don't think he remembers me with fondness. Occupational hazards."

Adam's eyes narrowed. "What do you want?" he spat.

"I'm just curious," the man answered leaning even closer. Adam could feel his steady heartbeat through their clothes. The man stopped their faces only inches apart. "You are an interesting little thing, Adam Milligan. It would be pity if someone would kill you before your time."

"Is that a thread?"

The man only smiled pulling away and letting him free. All Adam managed was to stare stupefied when he turned to walk away.

"Tell Dean I said hello," the man called over his shoulder before disappearing into the stairway.

What the hell was that about?


	8. Scars

December 8th

**Genre:** Romance, Fluff

**Rating:** K+

**AN:** Continuation for the _Party_ and _The Beautiful One_.

* * *

Michael pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it on the bed. He ducks through his closet for a right dress shirt, but halts. The noises from behind him have stopped.

As he turns around, he catches Adam quickly turning his head away. He have already unbuttoned his own shirt but not taken it off.

"What," he asks, but Adam doesn't answer avoiding looking at him and instead getting a glimpse of a whole-body mirror next to him. He tugs his shirt properly back over his shoulder.

"What is it?" Michael asks coming next to him.

"Nothing. You should dress up, we are already running late."

"Not before you tell me what's the matter," he pesters wrapping his arms around his waist from the behind.

Adam glances at him through the mirror and pulls the shirt completely closed over his mid-torso.

"It's not the first time I have seen you shirtless," he reminds resting his head on his shoulder. "There's nothing new to me." He runs his hand down his boyfriend's abdomen and can feel how Adam relaxes against him. His hand finds the rim of the shirt and starts slowly to pull it back off. He gets it half open before Adam realizes what he's doing and yanks it back closed.

"I was drunk that night and it was dark."

Then it dawns at him. He remembers that Adam has a few distinguishable scars around his body although nothing that would attract much attention. "You don't have to hide them from me," he says against Adam's neck, resting his hand on his side where he remembers is one of the biggest ones.

Adam sighs resigned and leans more against him. "Mom always said that they would lighten and disappear during the time, but they have come even clearer if possible."

"I find them intriguing," Michael says removing Adam's fingers from the shirt. "You never told me how you got this," he pulls the shirt away a little revealing a light purple scar.

Adam doesn't look himself in the mirror. "I was in a winter camp as a kid. We slept all in a tent with a stove. It was my turn to look after the fire at night and I was dozing off. One of my friends thought it would be a great idea to scare me awake near hot metal."

Michael caresses the scar with his fingers before pulling the shirt off more, revealing Adam's right arm. "What about this one?" he asks running his thumb over the smaller burn scar in his elbow.

"Burning grease." Michael raises his brows.

Adam smiles a little. "We were making Spanish dishes in the home economic, which included for example churros. The last group was deep frying theirs and I was already at the other end of the work station making the dishes when the churros just exploded in the grease, splashing it everywhere."

"It seems that I really have to keep you away from hot objects," Michael ponders stepping aback a bit letting the shirt fall from Adam's back. He pushes it a bit letting it fall off completely and runs his finger along a long scar on his shoulder blade. When he raises his eyes, he sees that Adam is smiling fondly at him through the mirror.

"That's from the time mom taught me to ride a bike. And don't ask how I get a scar like that from falling from the saddle," he chuckles.

Michael smiles back at him as he wraps his arms again around him. "See," he gestures at the mirror. "They don't make you any less beautiful."

Adam watches their reflection for a moment before turning around without breaking Michael's hold and looks deep into his eyes. "Thanks to you, we are now officially late." He pats Michael's arms and goes to dig his bag of clothes, but Michael still manages to get a glimpse of the grin that tucks his lips.


	9. Safe

December 9th

**Genre:** Dark Hurt/Comfort

**Rating:** T

**AN:** A scene from End!verse midam.

* * *

Heavy steps are walking past, only a meter away of them. Suddenly the sound on the other side of the wall stops and Michael can feel how Adam's fingers dig to his sides. Neither of them dares to even breathe. Finally, the steps start again and recede to the next alley.

In the gloom, Michael sees Adam slowly raise his head from his chest where he has been lying on, covering the other with his darker clothes.

"They didn't seem to take the truth so well," he whispers quietly and can feel better than hear Adam's dry chuckle against his body.

"They are assholes," the boy mumbles.

"You expressed that to them quite eloquently."

He sees the small grin as Adam pushes himself off him to his knees. Cool fingers brush Michael's skin when the boy pushes his shirt up to inspect the wound. It is long and moderately deep since neither of them expected such a strong reaction when the survivor group they had joined learnt Michael's true identity. He hisses softly when Adam pours the alcohol into the cut.

"Don't be a sissy. I have to clean it. God knows where their knifes have been."

Michael relaxes against the wall. By now, he has learned not to argue with Adam about certain things. Even though they boy had already been dragged through the literal hell and the peace he had been promised after it, has turned out into this war zone, he still somehow keeps fighting, still searching for promised safe.

Adam shakes him from his thoughts by tossing him a water bottle from their small bag. "Drink it, you lost some blood. You are a human now, your body needs it," he whispers lowly and before Michael can say anything about their shortage of supply, he continues, "You are the one of us with the military experience. It's in the interest of my sorry ass to keep yours in a working condition. So shut up and drink."

This is one of those battles Michael can't win. He lets Adam work in peace as the boy starts to sew the wound. The water is warm and musty, but after the long run from the survivors' camp, it doesn't matter. He watches over the bottle how the too long blond hair falls over Adam's down cast eyes as the boy concentrates. The circumstances have forced him to take a stance of a man much older than his own age. Michael reaches to brush some of the dried dirt from his cheek. _I'll keep you safe._


	10. We have work for you

December 10th

**Genre:** Drama

**Rating:** T

**AN:** A scene from Reverse!verse.

**Warning:** A very vague presentation of PTSD

* * *

A knock on the door drags Michael away from the comforts of the sleep. He fumbles his phone and squints as the bright blue screen that lights up when he brushes it. The clock reads 3.17. He groans and slumps back on the mattress. The neighbor's drunk has probably confused the doors. Not the first time.

The knock recurs, this time louder. He probably won't get sleep at peace before he has guided the poor bastard on the correct door. Sighing he scrambles off the bed and at the door.

He turns the lights on and looks that he's decently dressed. He pulls the first drawer of the hallway table open and checks that the gun is still there before unlocking the door.

But instead of a drunken balding middle-aged man, there's a young blond boy, definitely no more than in his early twenties, a little shorter than Michael and dressed in an old t-shirt and shabby sweatpants. He doesn't have shoes or even socks.

"Yes?" Michael asks when the boy lowers his hand he has raised for the third knock.

"I'm Adam. I'm here to work as your guardian."

"Excuse me?" Michael starts to slowly reach for his gun behind the door. Unfortunately, this is not the first time a guy with the mental health problems is roaming around the building. They guy from the first floor thinks he is the newborn Jesus. But unlike most tenants of the building, the boy has definitely not being in an army. He looks like he has wandered off from a college dorm.

"We know everything about you, Michael Milton. We know that you are a devout man." Before Michael can open his mouth to comment, the boy continues. "And we know what happened in Samarra."

Heavy cold weight settles in the bottom of his stomach. No one other than his superiors is supposed to know the exact places of the Operation. He even has to cut off all the place names from his stories to his psychiatrist. He quietly cocks the gun.

"Who are you?" he asks giving the stranger another, now much more calculating once-over.

"As I said, I am Adam and I'm here to‒"

"Yes, I got that. But what are you?"

"I'm an angel of the Lord."

Michael snorts. "I don't know which kind of sick joke this is or how you know about Samarra, but you can tell for whoever hired you for this that they can fuck the hell of."

The boy, Adam (if that's his real name) sighs and after a small pause the dim light over them starts to flicker. A sudden gust builds up in the stairway and without a warning, the eyes of the boy flashes and the light bulb shatters with a shower of sparks and shards. The shadows accumulate into pair huge wings that fill the narrow space. Only experience prevents Michael from stepping back and pulling the trigger.

The wind dies down and the shadows recoil. Michael can only guess what Adam sees when he scrutinizes his face. "These things are probably better talk behind the closed doors. May I come in?"

Michael doesn't know what to say, so he steps aside letting the young angel (because there's no other explanation for what he just saw) into his tiny apartment.

The angel looks around the spick-and-span one-room flat letting Michael in turn free to analyze him, The boy certainly doesn't look like an angel. He's barely an adult and has a bed hair and a t-shirt, which image is so worn you can't read the text. The string of the sweatpants must be broken because they are hanging almost too low.

Adam turns and notices his look. He glances at his own attire. "He's a med student from Wisconsin. I was in hurry and had to settle for the first vessel I could find."

"What," Michael shakes away his thoughts.

"An angel needs a vessel to have a physical form on Earth. There are nuances concerning taking a vessel, but the main idea is that a willing human gives his body into an angel's use."

"That… that's not it. Your clothes are just a bit… unconventional for other than sleeping."

The angel looks his shirt. "These are the ones he was wearing when I possessed him."

"I could lend you some cloths if you want."

The boy fingers the hem of the shirt and looks Michael. "Maybe I should change," he finally agrees haltingly.

"I'll pick you something," Michael says turning quickly to rummage his closet. An angel shows up at his doorstep and out of all the things he could have done, he offers him a change clothes. He notices that he's still clutching the gun and has to muster his willpower to release his hold and slip it under the elastic band of his pants. His faith for the goodness of the God had died on the hot desert, but now a messenger of His grace is standing in the middle of his apartment. How is he supposed to react?

"Here," he turns back and hands Adam a black shirt and jeans. "They should fit."

"Thank you." Michael can't turn away fast enough when the angel starts to undress then and there. Apparently celestial beings doesn't share the same boundaries of personal space and modesty as humans. He pours his concentration into a making a cup of coffee. At least it prevents his hands from shaking. He does his best not to listen the rustle of the clothes behind him.

Finally, the noise stop and silence fills the flat. Michael braves himself to turn around and look. The angel is now properly clothed. Although Michael doesn't believe it's his place to tell him that he has gotten his shirt backwards.

"So, now that we are both comfortable," the angel starts obviously blind for Michael's uneasiness about having a real angle of the Lord standing in the middle of his apartment. "The reason why I am here." Adam straightens himself and for a moment he looks a bit like the creature with the shadow wings at the stairway. Michael does his best to meet the unblinking blue eyes. "We have been watching you now for a while. And we have work for you."


	11. Imaginary

December 11th

**Genre:** A kind of Hurt/Comfort, Kid AU

**Rating:** K

* * *

"The first-born in every family is always dreaming for an imaginary older brother or sister who will look out for them."

- Bill Cosby

* * *

"You should probably clean your room," Michael says.

"You're not my mom, so shut up," Adam huffs as he weaves his way through the mess covering the floor.

"But she said‒"

"I know what she said. Shut up already!" Adam snaps and marches into the kitchen. He purposely avoids looking back at the other, who shuffles into the room after him. He pushes the chair against the counter with a bit too much force and climbs on it to reach the bowls in the cupboard.

When he jumps of the stool to get the milk from the fridge, he catches a side-glance of the other boy perching on the back of a chair, eyes on the floor. He doesn't react even when Adam brings his bowl on the table and Adam can't help that his gaze wonders from the cereals he's pouring across the table to the angel that just sits there, wings drooping miserably. The awkward silence stretches until Adam can't take it anymore.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles staring at the bowl. "I… I know it's not your fault she had to leave to the hospital."

"It's okay," Michael raises his eyes from the floor and smiles a little. "I understand."

After that, the silence becomes a little less uneasy. Just before Adam's goes bed, he rounds the house, making sure that the doors are locked. He turns off the lights after himself and climbs upstairs to his room.

Michael is already curled on the bed and doesn't budge from his place at the edge of the bed, leaving Adam to scramble over him and wriggle his way under the sheets. After a while in the darkness, Adam turns at his side, wraps his arms tightly around the angel and buries his face into his back. "Are you still mad at me?" he whispers.

Michael sighs before turning around. "No. I could never be mad at you," he says looping his own arms around Adam and draping a wing over them.


	12. Cute

December 12th

**Genre:** Fluff

**Rating:** K

**AN:** Written for my sister's, avokado-the-great, prompt _puppies_.

* * *

"I still don't like this," the angel mutters beside him.

"Like it or not, we don't have other choice," Adam reminds as they step into the snowy garden. He notices how Michael tenses; it's still a sore subject. The weakness had been a hard blow for the archangel's self-esteem. It had taken weeks from him to even let Adam see his wings. He had no idea how he managed to work even at the current level when they were at such state.

"Just, please behave," he says as he knocks on the door but Michael's resolute expression doesn't budge.

A young woman opens the door. She's a little older than Adam and has a blonde hair with neon pink highlights.

"Come on in," she beckons.

"Did you get everything?" Adam asks.

"Yes. Some of them on the list were a bit unusual, but I have connections. I have them in the kitchen."

She starts to lead the way across the house but stops and turns around. "We had our agreement," she says looking at Michael.

The angel opens his mouth, but Adam cuts him off before he can say anything that might ruin the whole deal: "Stay here."

He and Michael already agreed to this, but it still takes a couple of minutes from Adam to stare him down. He doesn't even try to hide his frustration as he turns and marches somewhere else in the house.

If there's something even more humiliating for an archangel than not being able to defend himself, it's having to resort to a witch's help. Adam had found Melanie's name from the Internet while searching for ingredients for a protective magic. She said she would be able to provide everything they needed for a suitable payment. The only con was that she wouldn't make deals with an angel. Apparently, they aren't on the top of the most people's lists of favorites at the moment.

After a long hemming and hawing, she agreed to sell her products, but only for Adam. Michael was not to partake in it. The angel had grudgingly agreed, as the lack of security outshadowed his own sense of dignity.

"Here," Melanie says handing him a small black bag. "I presume you know how to use them?"

"Somewhat yes." Adam gives her the envelope with the money.

They sink into an uneasy silence. Neither of them is sure what to do or say next.

"I'm surprised that you are sticking to that angel," Melanie finally breaks the silence.

"Well, we have some history…"

"It's probably not the safest thing to right now. The angels are going down, and they will drag anyone close to them down too."

"Oh, I have faced worse."

Melanie smiled a little. "We should go back to your angel before he starts to think that I'm trying to bewitch you."

They find Michael sitting on the living room floor. He doesn't notice them at the doorway, concentrating to pet a German Shepherd, who rests her head on his lap. Litter of puppies is crawling on and around them.

There's something engrossing in the scene. Michael is more relaxed than Adam has ever seen him; he's not a soldier now. The look he has briefly seen during the rare times when Michael talked about his siblings is now clear and open. Adam smiles fondly for the cute scene in front of him.

"She was maltreated before I adopted her," Melanie says quietly from behind him. "She still doesn't trust most people, especially after she got puppies. I start to see why you like him."

* * *

It was started to snow while they had being inside with the witch.

"I was thinking that maybe we should get a dog," Adam says after they have walked awhile in silence.

"I didn't know you liked them."

"Well, I always wanted a pet, but we never had time or space for one when I was a kid. It would bring a little life to the house. And they are cute."

"I didn't know you cared about cute things either."

"Well, I care about you for instance."

Michael stops to squint at him. "I'm not _cute_."

A cheeky smile spreads on Adam's face as he walks past him. "In your dreams."


	13. Attraction

December 13th

**Genre:** Let's call this Dark Fluff

**Rating:** M

**Warning:** Drunkenness

* * *

Adam's phone blasts to ring on the table. A quick glance to the caller ID makes him frown. Since when had Michael actually learned to use his cell?

Gingerly he picks the phone up. "Yes."

"Adam," he hears Michael's voice over the loud backup noise. "I think I would need a ride."

"What? What happened?" Earlier in the evening Gabriel had appeared and grabbed Michael for something which he called 'brotherly bonding'.

"Gabriel got bored of me. I think I should go home." It sounds like he could be slurring a bit.

"Couldn't you call a taxi?"

"I don't have any money. Gabriel had some, but probably not any more…"

"Where are you?"

"In a bar."

Adam sighs. "I mean _where_ are you? Could you give me the address?"

There's a small pause. "It's… a bar…?"

Adam drags a hand down his face. "Could you give the phone for someone sober?"

"Alright…" There's some rustle as the phone changes hands.

He gets the address from a bartender and in twenty minutes he pulls over at a small bar next to a 24/7 pizzeria quite close the city center. Michael is standing at the doorway, the jacket pulled tight against the gusts of February wind.

"Where's Gabriel," Adam asks when he comes next to him.

Michael waves to the inside and Adam notices him at the cloakroom, but turns his head quickly away when he realizes what he's doing. There are certain things a person should never see and an archangel groping a woman is definitely one of them.

"He seems to be fine," Adam states as he returns to the car Michael shuffling after him.

"That's the second woman tonight. And then there was the man and‒"

"You know," Adam cuts him off. "I don't need to know everything you did. Let's just get you into bed, OK?"

Michael doesn't answer, only clambers into the old pick-up. Adam watches him from a corner of his eye. He's definitely drunk if the time it takes from him to fasten the seatbelt is any indicator. This is a completely new side of the Fallen Angels he has never even considered before. It brings a completely new level for them being turning into humans.

Michael doesn't say anything during the whole drive back at the motel they are sleeping. He just stares out of the window into the darkness outside. Adam turns the radio on to fill the silence.

Michael stirs off from his trance when Adam opens his own door on the quiet parking lot. He fumbles his seatbelt open and stumbles out of the car. Adam rounds to support him, because it starts to seriously look like he wouldn't manage alone at the motel room door without falling over. He's heavier than Adam expects and he has to take support from the roof of the car not to trip over on the icy asphalt.

"Gabriel tried to show me the joys of being a human," the angel mumbles at Adam's shoulder. "He tried to hock me up with some people."

"He can be a bit of an ass sometimes." Adam tries to wrap his arm better around him so that he could heave him up.

"And when it didn't work, he said I might be unable to feel attracted by other people," Michael mumbles even quieter.

He would kill Gabriel for this. "It was just a joke. It's totally okay not to find other people desirable."

"But it's true. I don't feel attracted to most of the people."

Adam's trying to think something to say to that when Michael suddenly raises his eyes to meet Adam: "But you're not most of the people." And before he can react, he's pinned against the car and Michael is kissing him.

It takes a moment for him to collect his thoughts and he breaks the kiss by turning his face away. "Mike, hey, Michael," he has to remove his own hands from his hair to guide the angel's hands from under his shirt. "You are drunk. You are not yourself."

"Does it matter?" Michael's lips trace his jaw.

"It matters for me!" Adam pushes him off.

His tone makes Michael cast his eyes to the asphalt and look like a kicked puppy.

"It's just…" Adam runs a hand down his face. "We talk about this tomorrow, when you are sober, OK?"

The angel doesn't say anything or raise his eyes.

Adam sighs defeatedly. "It's freezing out here. Let's goes inside." He rubs Michael's arm a little.

After Adam has opened the lock, the angel shuffles straight at the bed, throwing himself on it without taking off any of his clothes. Adam sits on the edge of the bed to remove his shoes. After a while, he feels how Michael turns around and wraps himself around him. He's going to say something, but Michael just stays like this and mumbles something incoherent into his jacket before sacking out. His arms are tightly around Adam, so apparently he's not going anywhere for a while.


	14. In Memoriam

Day 14

**Genre:** Angst

**Rating:** M

**Warning:** Euthanasia, a hint of major character death

**AN:** A new type of version of End!verse. Sorry this is a bit late. I had this all well planned in my head, but then at 11 p.m. my brains decided that 'hey, let's make it first person with a unnamed narrator'.

* * *

"There's nothing we can do," I said.

"No. There has to be a way. There has to be a cure for this," Johnston shook his head stubbornly and hugged his daughter. They were all nice people. I had watched as the two daughters of the family had learned to drive a bike on the short straight part of their street. Johnston's wife had been into charity and had organized countless charity sales for all kinds of reasons.

"There isn't," the young man next to me said. He couldn't be more than in his early twenties, but still he seemed to be the most unfazed by all of this. He had silently accepted when we had wanted to put him into isolation for a few days to make sure he wasn't infected. In the week he had now spent with us, he had proved himself a useful medic and more than a decent marksman. "The virus will take an effect in a few hours."

"I don't want to change," Maggie whimpered in her father's shirt. She was only 12.

"Shoo, honey, it will be OK."

"It's better to do it as soon as possible so that she doesn't have to suffer," I said lowly looking sorry.

Johnston blinked the tears from his eyes. Maggie's sister, Melissa, hugs her. A knot tightens in my gut. This is not going to be easy.

"I can do it," the young man, Adam, offered. Johnston and I changed looks. Neither of us would be able to do it.

Johnston had to swallow a few times to get his voice under control. "Honey, you get to be with Mr. Milligan for a while. I promise, everything is going to be okay. Just remember that I love you," he kissed his her forehead. Melanie whispered something teary to her sister.

Forcing himself to stand up, Johnston walked the few meters to give his reluctant daughter to Adam, who took her and let her clutch to him like a lifeline.

The other man looked like he was just about to break, so I saw it best to guide him and now openly crying Melissa outside. As I was closing the door behind us, I heard Adam softly speak to Maggie: "I heard your mother is in Heaven. It's a beautiful place."

When we stand there outside the apartment building we had taken as our shelter, Johnston finally broke down. His loud sobs startled Melanie from her own tears and she went to wrap her arms around his father. I had to turn to look the empty gloomy street that run past us. After five minutes of silence, we heard a quiet shot from the inside.

As we gingerly returned inside, we found Melanie lying on the floor. Her expression was peaceful, like she was sleeping and her jacket was closet, probably to cover the bullet wound. Adam was brushing her hair behind her ear, but when we stepped in, he stood up.

He and I left the Johnstons to grieve their daughter and sister alone and went into what was once been a living room, but now had only a clunker of a couch. Adam started to take of his shirt that now had a big dark bloodstain in the front of it. As he turned around the take a cleaner one from our packages, I saw the tattoos. Among all the scars that adorned his back, dark steel blue wings spread from his shoulder blades all the way to his waist.

"I wouldn't have guessed you for a guy with tattoos. Do you have a story behind them?" I asked.

Adam stilled for a while before continuing dig the bags. When he spoke, his voice was carefully even and void of emotions. "It's for a memory of someone I lost," he said simply.

I know better than to ask more.


	15. Faith

December 15th

**Genre:** Drama

**Rating:** T

* * *

Everyone has that one aspect in their character that is the root of their downfall. The one trait that leads them to all those bad decisions.

For Dean Winchester, it is his heart. Because regardless how hard he tries, he never can save everyone.

For Sam Winchester, it is the fact that he can't see himself like others do. Because every time he looks in the mirror, all he sees is the boy with the demon blood, the one who kick started the Apocalypse.

And for Adam Milligan, it is his faith. The faith that he can help, that he can cure the wounds.

It is that faith that leads him to come back home to help with the search when he hears that his mother has gone missing.

It is that faith that leads him to agree with the angels who appear into his heaven and ask him to help to save the world.

And it is that faith that leads him to finally say yes to Michael, because he sees the weight on the angel's shoulders and the sadness for the oncoming destiny behind his eyes. And he knows he can help.


	16. Michael

December 16th

**Genre:** Fluff

**Rating:** K

**AN:** For washington-jones, who plead for baby!Adam, so here you go.

* * *

"This one," Adam picks up one of the kittens that have been carefully inching towards him. Its green eyes widen almost comically when the little boy scoops it up not so gently. "I want this one," he pets the kitten until it starts to relax.

Kate crouches next to him and reaches to scratch the black cat. "He's a pretty one. Do you want to name him?"

"Yeah." The boy brings the kitten away from him so that he can have a better look at it. "Michael. He's Michael," he announces after a moment.

"Well, let's go introduce Michael his new home, shall we?"

"Alright," Adam says and carries the kitten from the backroom of the pet shop.

* * *

"Honey, I'm leaving now," Kate calls from the kitchen where she set the breakfast ingredients ready for the morning.

When she doesn't get an answer she goes to the living room where the TV is still on, but Adam has long since nodded off on the carpet in front of it, the kitten purring on his chest. The sight is exceptionally endearing. Michael opens his eye slightly when she closes the TV and sinks his nails into Adam's shirt as she carefully picks them up to carry them into bed.

* * *

"Now you can bring him in," she calls setting the quilt on the new couch.

"See, Michael, this is our new home. This is where we are going to live now," Adam babbles excitedly as he carries the cat inside and Kate does her best not to laugh, because its hind paws are almost dragging on the floor when Adam carries it arms wrapped under its front paws and the poor creature looks completely resigned to his destiny.

* * *

Adam freezes at his door and stares to cat that's contently lying on his textbooks. "Oh, come on. I was away just five minutes." Michael only swings his tail lazily.

"Time to move," Adam pushes the cat, but the bastard only plumps down on his side.

Adam tries to inch his hands under Michael and that's the moment he decides to stretch and starts to sink his nails into the pages. "Don't you dare…" he narrows his eyes threateningly at the cat, who stays completely unfazed.

"You are an ass, you know that?" Adam finally sighs annoyed. He could swear that the cat manages to look smug.

* * *

Wind tries to blow the candle out, so Adam has to shield it with his hand as he sets it on a small grave under the tree in the back yard. He straightens up and stands there for a moment not caring about the early winter's coldness that tried to seep through his shirt.

After a moment, he swallows and turns to go back inside.

* * *

The wing twists involuntarily with pleasure as Adam runs his fingers through the dark feathers. Michael hums contently against his chest and settles better over him, like an overly warm blanket.

Adam is in his thoughts and pets his wings absentmindedly. Suddenly he laughs a little.

"What?" Michael raises his head to look at him.

Adam smiles at him. "Nothing. I just remembered something."


	17. Decipher

December 17th

**Genre:** Fluff

**Rating:** K

**Summary:** Angels are not always the most clearest ones in what comes expressing their feelings.

* * *

Adam lowered his book and looked curiously at the angel on the other end of the couch. It had now been ten minutes since Michael had sat down and hadn't done anything but fidgeted and started to pick a hole into the fabric of the armrest.

"What is it?" Adam finally asked, because seriously, he had to let him out of his misery. It wasn't even funny anymore how nervous the Sword of Heaven looked.

"You know," Michael started fumbling, "how sometimes you meet someone who are so beautiful and fascinating and all that, but then you get to know them and five minutes later they are dull as a brick?"

"Yes…" He didn't have a glue where Michael was aiming.

"And that then there's other people who you meet and think 'Not bad, they're okay', Michael continued keeping his eyes strictly guarded on his hands.

Wait a minute. This started to sound disturbingly familiar…

"But then you get to know them and their…" Michael waved his hand vaguely. "Their face just, kind of, becomes them, like their personalities written all over it and they ‒ they just turn into something so beautiful, so fascinating," his voice died down and a faint blush started to creep on his face.

There was a long moment of silence when Adam didn't knew how to react and Michael's knuckles were turning white as he gripped his jeans to prevent himself from twisting his hands. Adam stared at the angel. Why on Earth had he suddenly started to act like a teenaged girl in the presence of her‒ Oh dear Lord.

"Well, there are three things I know," he started gingerly, sitting up. "First, we have to start to limit the time you watch TV with Gabriel. You have started to quote Doctor Who."

Michael's blush deepened.

"Secondly, I'm not completely satisfied with that quote. It doesn't mention the rare situation when you meet someone so beautiful and fascinating and soon they turn out to be a total ass, but then you spent more time with them and get to really know them and they turn out to be just as beautiful and fascinating as you first thought they would be."

Michael finally raised his eyes to look at him confusedly and opened his mouth to argue, but before he could say anything, Adam continued: "And thirdly," he stopped to make sure the angel was looking him in the eyes. "Next time, I want to hear that with our own words."

Michael's blush deepened fiercely and he scrambled up from the couch, but before he could flee, Adam yanked him back down and leaned to kiss him.

At first, Michael froze completely, but after a while Adam could feel how he started to relax and couldn't hold his grin when the angel's hands grabbed his clothes possessively. He had deciphered his angel correctly after all.

* * *

**AN:** For those who wonder what quote Michael used, it's from Amy Pond from the episode _The Girl Who Waited_ (6x10):

_"You know when sometimes you meet someone so beautiful — and then you actually talk to them and five minutes later they're as dull as a brick; but then there's other people. And you meet them and you think, "Not bad, they're okay," and when you get to know them ... their face just, sort of, becomes them, like their personality's written all over it, and they just — they turn into something so beautiful. Rory's the most beautiful man I've ever met."_


	18. Definitely not a beginner

December 18th

**Genre:** High School AU, hints of smut

**Rating:** M

**AN:** I felt an urge to write these two bastards making out again.

* * *

A loud music drifted from an open door to the back yard and the growing shadows of the shed shielded them from anyone who might decide to come out to get a little fresh air. Michael had to bite his knuckles to stifle the noises that where crawling out of his throat.

"It's okay," Adam said softly standing up from where he had been kneeling on the grass and took his hand to his own to sooth the red bite marks with his thumb. "Nobody can hear you out here, and even if someone would, they are all too drunk to care."

Michael had to swallow a few times to get his voice under control. "If my brothers get to know about this, I'm never going to hear the end of it," his voice started to become strangled when Adam had started absentmindedly nibble his way down his throat.

"They are too busy to get into my brothers' pants to notice," he felt Adam's hot breathe near his shirt collar. "And if they would, they would probably congratulate you for being the first one to tame a Winchester."

"You‒ you call this taming?"

He could feel Adam's smirk against his collarbone and how his fingers started to excruciatingly slowly open the buttons one by one. Adam made sure that he kissed every patch of skin he revealed and didn't let Michael other choice than sank his hand into the sandy hair and rest his head against the wooden wall of the shed, trying to concentrate to breath even somewhat regularly.

"We can do the taming properly next time," Adam promised as he kissed the end of his sternum.

"Next time?"

"Oh," Adam stopped and pulled back a little. "If you don't want to we of course doesn't have to‒" the boy started to stammer frantically.

"Hey, hey, it's OK," he said pulling Adam back up to look him properly in the eyes. "I just didn't think you would want it since in five days I'll back in college and I can't come back before Christmas."

He could swear he saw Adam blush slightly in the gloom. "Then why did you think I'm making the most of it while I still can?"

"I don't know," he grinned and embedded his fingers into the short hair in Adam's neck. "Maybe my natural charm?" He pulled the boy into a kiss.

He had already deducted that Adam wasn't a beginner in the business, but he just thanked the amazing teacher he seemed to have had. The boards behind him creaked a bit as Adam pushed them against the shed and his hands wandered down at his hips.

"I didn't know you were so sure about your own attraction," he whispered continuing to nib Michael's bottom lip.

Michael raised his brows. "Where do you think Luci and Gabe got it from?"

Adam chuckled as he kneeled back down again. "I like this hidden cheekier side of you," he said running his thumb over Michael's hipbone.

"And I like this hidden side of you that makes out with speaking acquaintances in his brother's party," Michael ran his fingers through Adam's hair. "And by the way, how did you planned to tell Dean about us. I'm not one of his favorite people."

"Fuck Dean," Adam retorted yanking Michael's jeans properly down. "And don't you dare to twist that with some smartass comment about semantics."

"Or what?"

"Or I can do this," Adam grinned wickedly as he inched his hands agonizingly slowly up Michael's tights and traced the arch of his hipbone with his finger.

_Yes, definitely not a beginner_, Michael thought as he felt Adam's breathe against his abdomen and his fingers ghosting over the elastic band of his boxers.


	19. Family's approval

December 19th

**Genre:** Romance, College AU

**Rating:** T

**AN:** Continuation for _Party_, _Beautiful One_ and _Scars_.

Some small backup information for the story. In this AU, once up a time, Chuck decided to share some of the wealth he had with a community and ended up adopting a kid, Michael. And well, one thing led to another and soon he had also adopted three others, Luci, Raphael and Gabriel.

But kindhearted as he was, he would had wanted to adopt all the kids from the orphanage, so he established a foster home for kids, although in reality it became just one huge patchwork family for all of them, and most of them decide to stay, even after they become legally adults.

Unfortunately, a few years before the actual story line begins, Chuck died, leaving his four oldest in charge (although in reality it's Michael and Raphael, who keep the things rolling).

* * *

Street lights start to light up in the darkening parking lot.

"I could walk you at your door," Michael suggests between the kisses.

"Not going to happen," Adam buries his cold fingers into Michael's jacket pockets.

"Why not? I don't think your neighbors would mind."

"I don't care about them, although some of them are creepers. It's my brothers I'm worried about. And Dean especially. Because Sam might be the one in the law school, but you sure as hell don't want to end up being cross-examined by Dean, believe me. I have experienced it."

"I think I could take it."

Adam shook his head. "You don't even know what you are walking into. He probably has already dag up your whole life story and family history. He has his ways to do that. And you haven't introduced me to your family either." He puts a finger at Michael's mouth to stop him from arguing. "And no, those couple of kids who surprised us a few weeks ago doesn't count. You told them I was a 'friend'."

Michael kisses the finger softly. "It's for your own protection. Some of them would quite probably want you to have some kind of crazy rite of passage until they would approve you in. But it's only temporary. I promise to introduce you properly immediately after I find a way to prevent some their most deranged ideas."

"See? Both of us have our reasons to keep our siblings away from each other." He pecks Michael the last time before detangling himself and turning to go inside. "See you tomorrow."

"When do I get to meet your brothers?" Michael calls after him.

"Never, if I can help the matter," he grins over his shoulder. "I appreciate you with all your limps intact."

* * *

The phone starts to play far too loudly in the darkness. After a moment of groggy fumbling, Adam finds the damn device. Unknown number. Groaning he cuts the call off and slumps back against his pillow. It's just 1.25. Still five more hours to sleep.

After a couple of minutes, the phone starts to ring again. The same number. This time he buries the thing deep under his pillow to muffle the noise.

When the melody starts to play for the third time, he's ready to throw the phone to the wall. "I'm sorry," he says trying to keep polite as he answers it. "But I think you have a wrong‒"

"I know you, Adam Milligan," a young male voice in the other end of the line interrupts him.

"Excuse me?" He sits up.

"I know all about you. I know about your studies in the premed and how you live with your brothers. I even know what happened you mother."

"If this a some kind of sick joke‒"

"And I know what you are doing with that pretty boy of yours."

A cold threat sinks into his guts. "You leave Michael alone or I swear I'll‒"

"I'm not interested in him right now," the voice says lazily. "Although I know where he lives too. But at the moment I'm more fascinated of how you have managed to wrap him around your finger." There's a slight rustle, possible paper. "'You are definitely the best thing that has ever come out from a drunken college party'. 'I could find you some time between the lectures if you want'," the voice sounds to read sarcastically and Adam's blood turns ice. Those we are both Michael's messages for him from about a week ago.

"And, aww, 'I already miss you'," the voice continues mockingly. "This stuff is so mushy it makes me almost puke."

"What do you want?" Adam asks doing his best to hide the shiver in his voice.

"Right now, all I want is that you know that I know. And please, let not get anyone else drag anyone else into this. Because I will know if you tell someone." The stranger cut off the call.

Adam can't prevent the chills running down his back as he sits in a darkness gripping the phone.

* * *

Something starts to vibrate and hum beside Michael's pillow. Disorientedly he grabs the phone that's screen is flashing at the time of the silent ring tone. "Yes?" he croaks.

"Hi, Michael. Sorry if I woke you up."

"No, no, it's OK, Adam," Michael props himself better against his elbows. "What is it? I thought you have an early morning."

"I… I just wanted to check that you get home safely."

Michael frowns. "Why wouldn't I?"

"For no reason… I just wanted to check on you."

"Did something happen?"

"No. Everything's fine. I just‒"

"Adam," he interrupts. "Having to raise one's siblings has a certain perks. I can for example tell if someone is lying, even via phone."

There's a long silence and then Adam sounds to let a designated sigh. "I just got a phone call…"

"What kind of?" Michael wrestles himself to a sitting position.

"It's not that bad. He just woke me up and I'm really overreacting. I should let you go back to sleep."

"Adam, what kind of phone call was it?"

Michael can almost see how Adam's shoulders slump. "There was just this stranger who knew things about me," he said quietly.

Michael's grip of the phone tightened. "What kind of things?"

"He knew where I lived and studied. And he knew about us."

"Did he threaten you?"

"No. He said that all he wanted right now was me to know that he knows."

"Did you already call the police?"

"Not yet. I wanted to check on you first. And he really _knows_ about us. He read some of your text messages aloud."

Michael freezes. If he had their personal messages, the man had to have an access to either one of their phones. "What did he say? Exactly?"

Adam takes a deep breath trying to calm himself enough to concentrate. "He rang twice before I picked up. I started to say he had a wrong number, but he interrupted me and said he knew all about me. And then he told how he knew I was in a premed and lived with my brothers and even about how my mom died. And he said he knew what I was doing with that pretty boy of mine and when I threatened him to leave you alone, he‒"

"'Pretty boy'? Are you sure he said 'pretty boy'?" Michael interrupts him.

"Yes… Does it matter something?"

Michael grits his teeth. "I know he it was."

"What? How‒?"

"Don't worry, OK? It's nothing serious. I'll call you back soon." He hangs up and gets out of the bed. He's going to kill that bastard.

"What's going on?" Lucifer peeks from the living room as he marches pass.

"You know full well what's going on," he hisses spinning around.

Lucifer only cocks an eyebrow, unfazed.

"You called him a threat call!"

"Oh, he told you about it?"

"Of course he would check on me after something like that! You can't just go around threatening people‒!"

"Michael, what the hell is going on? You are going to wake the whole house," Raphael asked coming from her own room.

"Mike has a boyfriend," Lucifer quips before Michael get to say anything.

"He has _what_?" Gabriel reels from his room on his chair.

"You have no right to threaten people, regardless of what their relationship to‒!"

"He doesn't deny it," Gabriel notes squinting a bit. "I thought he was unable to form any kind of relationship with anyone outside the family."

"Well, there was Kathleen, but that was in the kindergarten and she seemed to be the one wearing the pants in the relationship. For all the two days it lasted," Lucifer shrugs.

"How do you even know he has a boyfriend?" Raphael asks looking between her brothers.

A grin spreads on Lucifer's face. "Samandriel is quite smart boy for his age. He happened to tell me that two weeks ago, when he got back from school, he found out that Mike had a visitor, 'a friend that made him really happy'. And when I asked him to specify, 'really happy' seems to equal 'holding hands, hugs and kisses on the drive way –happy'."

Michael buries his face into his hand. Of course it had been pointless to dream that the kid hadn't seen it all.

"Wait, wait, wait. Wasn't two weeks ago the charity event of your faculty you conveniently forgot to tell me about?"

"Really, Gabriel. If you so badly want to flirt with Kali, you should find some other place to do it, which wasn't full of people I know," Michael scowls at his brother.

"But you were on a _date_ date before you introduced him to us? I'm deeply hurt. How long have this been going on behind our backs."

"I met Adam six weeks ago and I didn't tell you because I knew someone of you would get some idiotic idea, like making him _a threat call_." He looks pointedly at Lucifer.

"Michael has someone?" a voice asks behind them.

"Balthazar, go back to your room, this doesn't concern you," Raphael orders before turning back to Lucifer. "You really threatened someone? Are you insane?"

"Not really. I just let the kid to know that I know. And it was for Mike," he wraps an arm around Michael's shoulder looking solemn. "He has fallen so head over heels that he has forgotten all his safety nets and procedures he himself taught us. So is my duty as his brother to look after him and make sure he doesn't get hurt."

"You wouldn't even know if I'm head over heels or not since your own head is‒"

"Becky Rosen has a surprisingly good night camera."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Gabriel dashes into his room and soon returns into a hallway browsing through his phone. Suddenly he stops to look at something. "Well, who would have thought…"

Raphael peeks over his shoulder but quickly turns away. Lucifer's grin doesn't promise anything good.

Michael grabs the phone from Gabriel. It's open from Becky Rosen's Facebook's photo gallery and he can recognize himself and Adam kissing on the fence at the beach. He hadn't had an idea that they had photographed. He browse through the few other pictures tagged by their names and the last one Adam's already sitting in his lap, his hands roaming under his shirt. He tries to suppress the rising heat on his face.

"I never knew you had such a wild side, Mike," Gabriel snickers. "Now, do I get my phone back?"

"I need to ask her to take these down," Michael mutters not caring about him and turning to go to his room.

"You know, I'm impressed that his first worry was your safety even though I didn't even threaten anyone properly," Lucifer called after him. "You have my blessing to proceed."


	20. Nightmare

December 20th

**Genre:** Hurt/ Comfort

**Rating:** T

* * *

The Cage is an ultimate tool of torture.

It is actually just a bare space, but what makes it so effective is that you can fill the emptiness with your own personal nightmares. And that is what brings even the strongest man on his knees.

Therefore, it's not a wonder when Adam crawls at Michael, seeking shelter from his own mind. He lets the boy inch against him and drapes one of his wings over him. Adam buries himself into his Grace until its light burns the shadows away.

* * *

Michael startles awake. It takes him a moment to remember where he is and why everything is so dark. But even then his heart doesn't stop hammering and the shadows still look ominous around him.

He throws his legs over the edge of the bed and pads through the empty house. He knows the trail by heart now.

After the Cage his Grace has been dimming and he has found himself needing human things like food and sleep. Adam has gone to the other way; he has to force himself to eat and he barely sleeps.

Michael stops at the small balcony. This is the place where Adam comes every time he can't sleep. The boy turns to look over his shoulder when he hears the glass door creek but doesn't say anything when Michael steps next to him.

He's sitting there wrapped in a blanket, leaning against the rail his legs hanging over the edge, watching as the stars light up and the moon climb up to the sky. He lets Michael sit next to him and lean against his warm, draping a corner of his blanket over him.


	21. Answer to your prayers

December 21th

**Genre:** Drama

** Rating:** T

* * *

The boy quivers in his arms seeking even the slightest warm against the ever-present coldness. All Michael can do is to pet his hair soothingly while whispering comforting words and pull him a bit tighter against himself.

Eventually Adam falls into a slight slumber, which offers him a brief moment of refuge from the Cage. Michael raises his eyes to the sigils that cross over them in the darkness. He has already accepted that he will not ever get out, that no-one up there's not listening to his pleads, but the boy in his arms doesn't deserve this.

_Please, Father._

He bows his head.

_He doesn't deserve this. This is not his punishment to suffer. He's not created to stand this, something designed to us. It's killing him._

Adam whimpers quietly in his sleep, but settles when Michael runs his hand at his back.

_Please. Just this time. Save him from the pain._

* * *

The change is so gradual at first it goes unnoticed. Small transformations drown into the all-consuming grayness that swallows everything and blurs the time.

Little by little, Adam's snivel dies down and the boy settles into a silence. His sleep becomes deeper and steadier.

It isn't until Adam gasps of pain that startle Michael from his own slumber. When the soothing words and fingers brushing the hair don't help, Michael reaches his Grace to brush the boy's soul and ease the pain.

But instead of wavering light, he meets something brighter and solid. A new threat seeping into him, he slowly opens his wings that have covered the boy for years, maybe decades. Something soft brushes against his feathers and the terror settle into his guts to stay.

The new feathers vary from ash grey to stormy blue.

He pulls Adam, who had calmed down again, tighter against himself and kisses his hair.

_I'm so sorry._

_This isn't what I asked for._


	22. Time after time

December 22nd

**Genre:** Drama

**Rating:** T

* * *

_"Dreaming men are haunted men"_

- Stephen Vincent Benet, _John Brown's Body_

* * *

The sheet rustled as Adam pulled them slightly back and crawled under them. Immediately when he settled down, arms wrap around him and he could feel Michael's hair tickling his neck.

"Why on earth are you still awake?" Adam asked glancing over his shoulder at the sleepy man pressed against him.

"I was waiting you to get home," Michael mumbled against his shoulder.

"You idiot. It's 2 a.m. and I'm not the one with an early morning."

"I sleep better with you."

Adam sighed. "You are a hopeless sap, you know that?"

"You said yourself that it is one of the reasons you love me so much."

"When did I say anything like that?"

He could feel Michael's lips twist against his skin. "When you promised to love me in sickness and in health."

"You can't keep me responsible of what I said then. I would have promised you the moon from the sky if you had kept batting your lashes for me like that."

Arms around him tightened. "I'm going to run with it."

* * *

The bathroom clock clicked shut and Adam let himself slide against it to the floor. That was the moment when the barriers finally broke. He pulled his legs against him and let the tears wet the denim covering his knees.

_Fuck you, Michael._

* * *

The bare bushes behind the slide stirred as a dark-haired boy pushed past them into the small space between them and the wall.

"Go away," Adam muttered and wiped his eyes fiercely into his sleeve.

"You forgot your coat," the boy said offering it to him. "It's cold."

Adam snatched it and quickly turned to face the wall. But the boy didn't take the cue to leave.

"I heard about your mother." The fabric rustles as the boy crouched next to him and he could feel the arms wrapping around him. "I'm sorry."

A quick glance proved that everyone else was still playing inside, so Adam turned and buried his face into the older boy's jacket.

* * *

"Which scenario is this?" Lucifer asked coming behind his brother. "Twentieth?"

"Twenty-second," Michael answered quietly, not removing his eyes from the kids at the playground.

Lucifer snorted. "At first I thought this was some kind of penance, trying to protect the kid from the reality of the Cage. But now it starts to seem like some sort of masochistic self-punishment."

Michael didn't say anything, only clenched his hand as he continued to watch the other boy to comfort the blond toddler.


	23. Adopted

December 23rd

**Genre:** Hurt/Comfort, Cat AU

**Rating:** K+

**AN:** Someone really should forbit me from watching animal shows late at night, because this is not even close what I planned to write. But at least I'm not planning the Olm AU my sister suggested. Yet.

* * *

"Aww, he's so tiny," a woman cooed holding a small pattered brow striped cat. "What happened to him?"

"He and his mother got attacked two weeks ago, possible by a raccoon," an animal shelter worker explained." The beast killed the dam, but he survived."

"Poor thing. But he's still so cute. It's a wonder no-one has adopted him yet. Does he have a name?"

"We couldn't find a microchip, but we christened him Adam. Unfortunately we don't have space to keep him, so we hoped you could take him and try to find him a home."

"Of course. He should enjoy being here with others." She put him down to the carpet where a few other cats were swarming around them, which quickly gathered to inspect the newcomer. But Adam only tugged his tail under him and flattened to the ground.

"He's still seems to be a bit down from losing his mother and he's also little timid around other cats," the shelter worker said sadly as Adam slinked under the couch for the first change he got.

"Poor thing. He must have been living on the streets for a while. I'll see what I can do with him."

* * *

When the food bowls clicked against the kitchen tiles, five cats appeared like from a thin air around them. But the new cat, Adam was nowhere to be found.

The woman went to the living room and crouched next to the couch. The young cat, which hadn't come out the whole day, flattened his ears against his skull and bared his teeth as he crawled deeper behind the couch.

"Come on, little one. I'm not gonna hurt you," she tried to coach him out, but the cat didn't even bat an eye.

"You must be thirsty," she set a water bowl a few inches away from the couch. But Adam stubbornly stayed put in his place against the corner.

After a moment, the woman sighed and got up. She wasn't going to pull him forcefully out of his hide. He would come out when he was ready.

* * *

"How's Adam faring?" the shelter worker asked in her visit next week.

"Well, he's still timid and spends most of his time behind the couch, but something there's something you are not going to believe," the woman said guiding her into the living room. She moved the couch a bit from the wall to reveal two cats sleeping on each other. The dark blue Maine Coon raised his head and hissed at them from disturbing their peace.

"Isn't that the one who was run over by car three months ago? The one who doesn't trust anyone?"

"Yes. Michael's still leery towards the others and quite strict about his own territory. That's why I was just as surprised when I found out that he had kind of adopted Adam. I first noticed that he started to carry his preys inside again. And he also started to circle around the couch."

"And Adam just lets him do that?"

"Not at first. In the beginning he made sure Michael stayed a few feet away, but since he didn't show any signs of giving up, I think Adam just finally gave up and let him have his way." She smiled at the cats.

Michael still stared them suspiciously for a moment before curling tighter around the younger cat and starting to lick him between his ears.


	24. Exploration

December 24th

**Genre:** Smut

**Rating:** M

**AN:** An anon asked some warm midam morning sex from me in Tumblr, so I decided to leave it the last. As those of you who have read all my previous works in _Midam Christmas Calender_ might have noticed that every time I get these two bastards to make out with each other (like in _Party_ or _Definitely not a beginner_) I always end up cutting them mid-action. That has led me have at least part of my soul and dignity for these three months I have been writing midam. But now I have finally sell the final pieces of myself to this ship by writing a proper smut about it (or as proper as the first smut fiction can be). There's no turning back now...

I hope to see you all abroad the next time I get overwhelmed by midam-feels (which doesn't probably take long). But until then my friends, fair winds for you all. *salutes while sails into the sunset*

* * *

The sunlight filtered through the shades waking Adam. Groaning slightly he tried to bury his face into the pillow but gave up quickly.

"Come on, Mike. Time to get up," he poked the archangel laying on him. "I know you are awake."

The angel didn't budge before Adam jabbed him harder to shoulder and even after that, he nuzzled closer mumbling something incoherent in Enochian.

"I don't know how you do things in Heaven, but here the world doesn't stop to wait you to get out bed," Adam snorted trying now to wriggle his way from under the angel.

But Michael wasn't taking any of it: he sifted to lie completely over Adam and looped his arms tighter around his waist. Adam could do anything than slump back on mattress. He knew from experience that there was no use trying to wrestle off a stubborn archangel.

Michael hummed contently when he settled back down and started to trace patterns into Adam's side. Adam flinched when his cooler fingers brushed over skin between his shirt and sweatpants that had warmed under the covers.

Michael stilled for a moment before resuming the touching. This time he splayed the whole hand on Adam's side and started to slide it under the shirt slowly, like waiting something. He stopped at Adam's heart feeling the pulse, which was by now quickened a little.

The deep green eyes turned to watch Adam curiously as the hand continued to wander now across his chest. Adam let Michael has his exploration in peace. The angel knew how intimate human interaction worked, theory at least. A faint heat rose on Adam's face as he tried to wipe off the memory of _that_ conversation.

Michael of course thought the reaction was from something he had done, so he started to run his hand down Adam's body a bit quicker. He pushed himself up a bit to get to slide his hand better and sifted his weight more down making the breathe catch in Adam's throat.

He could almost see the thought processes inside Michael's head until experimentally moved a bit again and this time Adam had to bite back a moan that tried to escape him. The small smile, like he had just found out something intriguing, that slowly sneaked on Michael's face combined with the hideous bed head he was having made it almost look like this was a normal activity for the angel and that he knew completely what he was doing.

Adam felt against his collarbone how Michael's breath hitched when he started to move his hips in deliberate circles. He twined his fingers into the dark hair and pulled the angel up into a kiss. This was the area they had already had a few practice runs and even though Michael wasn't that skillful, he was eager to get better.

"I love you," he said between the kisses cupping the back of Michael's neck and pulling the angel closer. "I love you too," Michael whispered back.

Their activities started to have an effect and Adam can feel how they both are becoming hard. Michael could clearly feel it too because his hands resumed their wandering down with a newfound determination. He propped himself properly on all fours and cold air rushed under the covers, but Adam didn't complain because Michael caressing his hipbones as he slowly slid off his pants was taking all his attention.

It was adorable how much attention Michael put into this. He was now proceeding excruciatingly slowly stopping after every move to check its effect on Adam. Although some of the atmosphere was dampened by the fact that few days ago, he had dived into the mysteries of a microwave with the same intensity.

Finally getting frustrated of the pace the things were going, Adam took the lead. Michael was, probably without his knowing, wavering between too slow and torturous teasing. "Look," he said enjoying the shudders he got when he ran his hands down Michael's back. "It doesn't have to be so precise." With a one swift movement, he pulled Michael's pants down and drew assuring circles into the warm skin of his hips with his thump. "It's more about the general feeling," he pulled the angel back into a kiss.

The yelp Michael made when he took both of them into his hand was muffled between their lips. He let Michael to get used to the sensation before taking his hand and guiding it between them. "See? It's the basic things. Details are just to spice it up," he explained as he started to move their hands up and down.

It was sloppy and Adam had to more than once advice Michael to ease his hold or alter his rhythm, but his hot ragged that ghosted over Adam's cheek or the new deepness in the kisses definitely made up for it.

It was fascinating to see Michael like this. The reserve and the uptightness had fall off along the way. So when Michael embedded his fingers into his hair and licked his bottom lip or when he cursed lowly in Enochian after Adam introduced a small swift of thumb over the head of his cock, it was all unreservedly and unexpurgatedly Michael.

Michael's muscles started to quiver from being tense for so long and his arm almost gave under him. Adam leaned up to kiss him and brushed sticky strand from his forehead with his free hand. "You are beautiful," he whispered as he made longer and stronger strokes with the other.

It didn't take long after that for Michael to come groaning, his nails digging into Adam's shoulder. He rested their foreheads together when Adam finished himself with a few last strokes. Almost immediately when he felt Adam relax under him, he lied back on him pulling the covers properly on them. He wrapped his arms around him and settled down resting his head over his heart sensing how pulse gradually slowed down.

When Adam finally regained at least some will to move, Michael had already dozed off on his chest. The sun was now moved a bit so that it didn't shone directly at his face, so maybe it wasn't that bad to let him sleep for a moment longer, he thought as he carded his fingers through Michael's hair.


	25. Unicorn

Surprise Bonus!

**Genre:** Drama

**Rating:** K+

**AN:** So, this was planned to be posted yesterday as my Christmas present for all the lovely people who have commented and liked/left kudos for the scribbles I have made during the past month. But yesterday was down for some reason, so I decided to wait till today, so that all of you could get to enjoy it at the same time not depending on which site you prefer.

I hope all of you have had a wonderful Christmas and will have even better New Year!

* * *

Michael's striding in the waiting room of the hospital is driving everyone crazy. Dean looks more and more like he's about to hit the ex-archangel. Sam doesn't seem to be the only one who has noticed the tension, because Castiel gets up from his seat and pulls his brother to the other side of the room, where they have a quiet conversation in Enochian.

Sam watches as Cas gives Michael an assuring squeeze on the arm before returning at his place next to Dean. Michael stays at the window staring the parking lot below them but probably not seeing it at all.

He's not sure if it's disturbing or fascinating to see this side of the angel. Earlier the first adjective to describe him would have been a soldier, but now it wouldn't have got even into the top fifty. He had been like a caged animal since the warehouse.

"Relatives of Adam Milligan?" a nurse asks from the door and all of them turned at him as one.

"Yes?" Dean answers rising from his plastic seat.

"He suffers from a severe concussion and a few broken bones but nothing severe. He even gained consciousness a half an hour ago but is sleeping now. He should be alright in no time, but we would still like to keep him here over night, just to be sure."

"Would there be any change we could see him?" Sam asks.

"Of course." She guides them through the white halls. "The visiting hours end in fifteen minutes," she says as she stops at one of the doors.

"Thank you. We keep that in mind," Sam thanks her before following Dean, who has already gone inside.

The lights are dimmed a bit and the three other patients were apparently also in sleep since no-one of them reacted when they stepped in. Adam is in the farthest bed closest to window. Apart from a splint at his shoulder and a few scratches and bruises, he seems to be fine.

Michael hoovers uncertainly behind Sam before going around to the chair at the other side of the bed. He leans his elbows to his knees and fixes his eyes to Adam. It's all painfully obvious. Even Dean sees it although he pretends otherwise (and Sam really can't blame him, there is so much past to mend). It's obvious for the way Michael always chooses the place a little too close to Adam, who doesn't seem to mind, or how Adam makes all the food in double just to make sure that the angel eats at least somewhat regularly. Or how Michael had forgot everything in the warehouse when he had heard Adam's yelp from behind him and how the demon soon regretted even breathing to their brother's direction.

Adam mumbles something incoherent before cracking his eyes. Michael takes his hand that lies on the blanket: "Hi."

A goofy smile spreads on Adam's face. "Hi."

Dean clears his throat drawing their attention away from each other.

"Why you all look so gloomy?" Adam asks looking at them. "I just tripped in the stairs. I'm not dying or anything." He stops to think for a moment. "At least I hope so. Although I think I would now if I would be dying, It feels different. Or well, at least being eaten alive does‒"

Dean snorts. "What the hell did they give to you?"

"Probably some of the painkillers that aren't suitable for me. I should write a list of them for you, because you wouldn't otherwise remember them the next time. But if I write it on paper, you will manage to lose it before you need it again. Although I could put it on somewhere sure where you would found it when you need it. But sure places are never really sure. You know what I mean. You put something somewhere where you think you will surely find it, but when you really need it, you can't find it from anywhere."

Adam continues to babble and ends up further and further from the original topic when the nurse comes back knocking at the door. "The visiting hours are over. I have to ask you to leave."

Adam's ramble suddenly stops. He looks first Michael and then the rest, finally fixes the nurse with a pleading look that Dean had once described a milder version of the puppy dog eyes Sam reputedly did. The nurse can take it for a few minutes before sighing resignedly. "I might be able to let one of you stay, but not all of you four."

"Thanks," Dean gives her one of his more charming smiles and turns back at the rest, but Sam interrupts him before he can say anything else.

"Would you like to stay?" he asks from Michael, who has now rounded back at them.

The angel looks surprised, but nods. "Yes, I would like that."

"Take care of him and make sure that he doesn't do anything stupid."

"I will."

Sam's almost leaving after Dean and Cas when Michael continues quietly. "I always forget how weak humans are," he says watching Adam, who tries to hide his yawn and rubbing his eyes. It's so easy to forget how young he is or how he had such a different childhood than Sam and Dean.

"I always forget how easily they can break. You turn your back for a moment and that's all it takes," Michael says without moving his eyes from Adam.

"Yeah. But don't worry," Sam pats the angel's shoulder. "He's tough. He's a Winchester after all, in all the good and the bad."

"I'm just not able to protect him like I should."

Sam glances from Adam and the back to Michael. "He really is your unicorn," he sighs.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing. But really. don't worry. Adam's able enough to protect both of you," he says before leaving letting the angel and his brother to have a moment for themselves.


End file.
